Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
by catastic
Summary: Songfic to the Les Miserables song of the same name. The lone survivor of the Final Fight battles with his grief.


Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/N: Here's another depressing fic, I always felt this song fitted perfectly with the HP universe, I really hope you like it, please review!

A dark figure entered the Leaky Cauldron and looked warily around. His collar was pulled up, hiding his face. He walked over to the bar and sat down, gesturing to the barman for a Firewhiskey. 

There's a grief that can't be spoken, 

There's a pain that goes on and on, 

As he waited for his drink, the figure glanced around, taking in his surroundings with a combination of pain and wistfulness in his eyes. 

Empty chairs at empty tables, 

Now my friends are dead and gone. 

The pub was empty, as it had been for many months, since the demise of Lord Voldemort. This was the first time he had been able to bring himself to come back here, after all that had happened. While the rest of the wizarding world had started to get more or less back to normal after the fall of the Dark Lord, this place had remained quiet, empty, like a monument to those who had fought and won. Or a tomb. It was here that they had begun plotting the demise of the most evil wizard in history, here that they had created a haven for themselves, a place where they could come and plan their next step, or just forget about everything and just be free and happy. 

Here they talked of revolution

Here it was they lit the flame

*Six months earlier*

"Hermione, come have a look at this" Harry shouted over the boisterous crowd. Hermione bounded over to the table where Ron and Harry were pouring over a piece of parchment. 

"Harry, I know I was sceptical at first, but I have to say, this is the perfect place to hold all our meetings." said Hermione, glancing around at the crowd, who were singing an old Irish rebellion song that Seamus had thought them.

Here they sang about tomorrow, 

But tomorrow never came. 

"Well I thought about the time in the Hogs Head, and I thought that this was the most unlikely place Voldemort would think that we'd plan the uprising. Since he's taken over, he's become a little too arrogant, he thinks that none of us would dare try anything, since what happened to Dumbledore." As he said this, the trio glanced down at the table, remembering their fallen leader. 

Harry shook himself from his painful reverie. "So back to the plans. Me and Ron have been looking over the layout of Voldemort's new headquarters and Ron's figured out a way in!"

"Oh Ron!" exclaimed Hermione, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek and looking down at the plans. "This is brilliant! I never would have noticed this!" She looked around the pub again, the Leaky cauldron was filled to the bursting with all the people of the Order. They had kept that name after Dumbledore had fallen and their numbers continued to swell until they felt they had enough qualified people to finally launch an attack on Voldemort and his followers. 

"You know what mate," said Ron seriously to Harry. "I think this could finally be it!"

Harry beamed at him. "I honestly think it is too!"

From the table in the corner, 

They could see a world reborn, 

And they rose with voices ringing

I can hear them now

*End flashback*

The man accepted the drink from the barman who looked at him inquisitively. "Aren't you-"

"No." said the man, cutting him off.

"Oh I'm sorry Sir," said the barman looking flustered, "it's just that you look so much like….."

"Well I'm not, so if you don't mind, I'd like to finish my drink."

The barman walked away, and the figure downed his drink and motioned for another. He didn't know why he came here, maybe it was to finally close the book on the whole saga, or maybe he secretly felt that he deserved all the pain that sitting in the place inflicted on him, for he knew that he shouldn't be alive, he knew that this wasn't supposed to be the way it turned out.

****

*

Four months earlier*

Hermione, Harry and Ron stood looking at each other while behind them, hundreds of people were getting ready for the final fight. 

"I can't believe this is it," whispered Hermione, looking at her two best friends.

Harry laughed anxiously, "well believe it. Either way, this war will be over before the end of the day." 

The three looked back at the crowd on the hill in front of Hogwarts. They had set up portkeys everywhere so the "army" could appear at Voldemort's hideout at once and launch their attack. They were all singing the rebel song that Seamus had taught them, trying to steel themselves for what may be their final hours.

The very words that they had sung

Became their last communion

On the lonely barricades at dawn.

*Later that day*

He stumbled across the battle the battlefield, staring in horror at the scene that surrounded him. Bodies lay everywhere, the Order mingled with Death Eaters. Utter devastation lay as far as could see. It was over, Voldemort had been defeated. He didn't know how he'd done it, but he'd killed him and now he was looking for his friends, trying to find any survivors. 

Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me

That I live and you are gone

As he walked, the faces he saw, covered in mud and blood, made him ache with grief. But all the while he kept an eye out for a bushy brown mane. He knew where the other body was, the other body of the boy that been not only his best friend, but his brother for close to eight years. It was lying beside the remains of Voldemort, the Dark Lords final act of malice and murder, eyes glassy and emotionless. He would go back for it later, first he needed to know…..

There's a grief that can't be spoken

There's a pain that goes on and on

Then he saw it, what he'd been dreading. She was lying on her back, her eyes unfocused looking up towards the sky, her mouth twisted in a soundless scream. He laid his hands over her eyes and closed them.

*End flashback*

The man sat with his head in is hands. As he raised his head he looked around the bar. If he really concentrated, he could see and hear them all, laughing, even in the darkest times, planning.

Phantom faces at the window

Phantom shadows on the floor

He could see a flash of brown hair, a raised glass, a brief kiss between two people that he was glad had gotten together after years of unrequited love and uncertainty.

Empty chairs at empty tables

Where my friends will meet no mor_e_

If he closed his eyes, he could hear the three of them laughing together, making plans for the future. He could hear her teasing them with laughter in her voice. But they weren't there, not anymore. While everyone was getting on with their lives, they had no lives to get on with. Neither did he. Everyone he loved was gone, everyone who had made his life what it was, had left him to go somewhere he could not follow.

Oh my friends, my friends,

Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for

At bleak moments like this, he wondered bitterly whether their sacrifice was worth it. Although the darkness was lifted from the wizarding world he loved so dearly, at times he would gladly have Voldemort back if only he could have the people he loved back with him.

As the barman watched him, the man downed his drink and stood up fixing his coat about him. As he walked over to the door, he knew he would never be back here again, this was just a brief goodbye, one last chance to reminisce before he went on with the shell that his life had now become. He opened the door, and with one last look around, as though trying to etch each and every part of this place on to his brain, Ronald Weasley walked into the bitterly cold night.

Empty chairs at empty tables, 

Where my friends will sing no more.

A/N: Okay there it is, would you believe that I'm actually a very happy go-lucky person?!

Also, the couple that Ron was happy had gotten together were Ginny and Harry, obviously!


End file.
